Of Love and Monsters
by WillowVk8339
Summary: Lying immobile on the bathroom floor, Mina gritted her teeth against the pain radiating throughout her body while simultaneously battling the haze threatening to overpower her. She sucked in a sharp breath and gave the wall she shared with her neighbor a tearful glance. Everything was thickening. Forfeiting her pride, she cried out, "Bucky! Help!"
1. Chapter 1: Wine and Girl-talk

The steady _whooshing_ of cars, and the occasional horn, flittered through the open windows, immersing the apartment in the bustling metropolitan city lying in wait just outside its thick walls.

Mina Walsh wedged the color sample up against the chipped white doorframe with a furrowed brow, giving the rather bland choices a shrewd eye. The landlord offered three choices: yellow, brown, and green—all of which could be successfully peed, pooped, or regurgitated by an infant. Great.

Between the water marked walls and dingy ceiling, one would think the landlord had bigger fish to fry than splitting hairs over whether her walls were pale blue or fuchsia. _It wasn't like the old man wasn't getting free labor or anything_ , she thought sarcastically.

"Which one are you thinking?" Natasha drawled. The lack of any real interest was obvious.

"Do you really care?" Mina ventured.

"Nope."

Mina chuckled. Shifting the phone between her ear and shoulder, she tossed the color sample on the counter and leaned against the linoleum. "Figured as much."

Natasha sighed.

"What's going on, Tash?" Mina poured a healthy glass of wine and took a swig. To anyone else her sister's sigh didn't mean anything more than mild annoyance, but she knew better. Something was up.

"I think I've been compromised."

Mina promptly set down her wine and stood at attention, ready to move into action the moment Natasha gave the word. "What do you need?" she asked, without hesitation.

"Advice." Natasha went silent. "I have a giant, green situation."

All tension evaporated from Mina's shoulders. With a slight shake of her head, she snapped up her wine and collapsed into a wicker chair on the balcony. "You better be talking about that little green monster called 'Envy' and not Bruce Banner's hot green pepper."

Natasha scoffed. "Real mature. You sound like Stark," the older Romanoff chided. "I'm being serious, Nina."

As she threw back the last of her wine, Mina failed to recount the last time Natasha had called her by her birth name. The fact that her sister made such a slip revealed how discombobulated Tash appeared to be.

After escaping Red Room Academy, young Nina Anastasia Romanov was erased and replaced by the straight-laced, school teacher Mina Jean Walsh. All traces of her past life were carefully concealed, and then deep-sixed. It took a few years to form some semblance of normalcy, to break free from the thoughts and tendencies the Academy had embedded in her psyche: fear, pain, kill. But then, she was only thirteen-years-old when Natasha swept down, with the help of S.H.I.E.L.D., and rescued her.

Mina can still recall the deep feelings of anger and resentment aimed at her sister for going rogue. The Red Room had been filled with her screams after confirmation of her sister's deflection emerged. Gospozha Zima subjected her to the worst types of torture imaginable in retaliation for the older Romanov's betrayal. That woman had a taste for blood and was skilled in the art of pain, but Zima took her time avoiding any permeant damage to Mina's skin, of course.

When the time came, Mina's younger self definitely didn't make her extraction easy for Natasha. Nina Romanov could only be described as being her own worst enemy back then.

Once placed in a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house, rehabilitation began, and it turned out to be a long road. The skilled archer, Clint Barton, was invaluable during that dark time. There were many manic episodes. A lot of bullets. A lot of blood. Mina evened out eventually, though.

Settling back into the chair, Mina played with the glass stem of her now empty cup.

Deciding not to call attention to the name slip-up, she listened dutifully as her sister surged ahead, the latter not noticing the sudden silence on the other end of the line.

Plunging into the implications of having genuine feelings for a member of the opposite sex, much less a fellow team member, Natasha divulged it all. A conflicting situation for the Black Widow to be sure. Her sister didn't _do_ complicated.

One hour and four glasses of wine later Mina was thoroughly enjoying a lush kind of buzz; the sort only a good bottle of wine afforded. Best girl-talk alcoholic beverage. Period.

"Well, you'll have to keep me updated, it's been too long, Tash." Mina stumbled out of the chair and took her time bringing her glass to the sink. "You can always put your Avenging on hold to come visit me, you know?"

"Vacation in Bucharest? Where do I sign up?"

Natasha's reply was dry, but Mina heard the smile lingering in her sister's voice regardless.

Simply grinning in return she muttered, "Whatever."

"I'll think about it. Talk to you later, Mina."

"Yeah, well, I'll be holding you to that. Night. Stay safe."

Mina hung up the phone before tossing it somewhere in the general direction of her couch. The apartment was in various states of disarray: moving boxes littered the room, as far as the eye can see, surrounded by an ocean of bubble wrap and newspapers. A collection of art deco for her classroom, plus some extra supplies, were piled in a far corner.

Well, this isn't daunting or anything, she mused.

Mina put her hands on her hips and sighed.

"Should've used my womanly wiles and the promise of pizza and beer on those bulky Romanian movers to help a girl out. Opportunity missed . . ." she trailed off, feeling put out.

A sudden series of knocks dimmed her buzz.

She shuffled over to the door and looked through the peephole; the narrow, greasy face of her landlord stared back. Feeling the slightest trace of frustration, she pulled open the door.

"Evening, Mr. Albu."

"Missus Mina," the old man greeted, accent thick. "Need inside. New neighbor needs water and the access is in your unit."

She looked over her shoulder at her messy apartment, then down at her frumpy, woolen Minnie Mouse sweater—a going away gift from her students—followed by her yoga pants, which hugged her butt in ways that made her uncomfortable in present company.

"Oh, um, sure—"

Giving her a stiff nod, he pushed his way inside before she could say anything else.

"Come on in," she finished in a whisper.

The landlord put his work bag down and rummaged through the tools.

Clearly dismissed, Mina went ahead and peeked out into the hall, trying to catch a glimpse of the new neighbor. Hopefully it wasn't some sketchy character, or shoddy musician whose passion to master their art meant late night jam sessions.

That would just be her luck.

To her disappointment the hallway was empty, leaving her to imagine the worst until proven otherwise.

"All done."

The unmistakable sound of metal tipped boots smashing against the hardwood made the gruff announcement from behind her expected, and she sidestepped Mr. Albu right before he breezed past her. Without preamble the plump landlord marched over to the apartment next to hers.

"You have a lovely night, too," Mina said to the air, not even attempting to lower her voice this time.

A couple seconds later, in her wine induced sluggishness, she pushed off the wall, finding herself grappling at the doorframe for support. Perhaps she was more buzzed than she realized.

Mina shook her head, trying to stay focused. The best thing was to plan simple: retrace her steps. Make it to her mattress, at least. She'd worry about putting sheets on tomorrow.

By the time Mr. Albu came back out of the neighboring unit, exchanging words with a separate disembodied voice, she had barely managed to move more than an inch or two. As if in slow motion she spared one last glance at the hallway.

There, standing a mere five feet away, was the last person she anticipated.

The Winter Solider.

* * *

 **A/N: Reviews welcome!**

 **Mina Walsh-23**

...

 **Mandatory disclaimer: Everything in the Marvel Universe—Marvel _,_ and its characters belongs to Marvel Comics, etc... Similarities to the original characters or themes from the movies and/or comics are used on here for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made. No infringement intended.**

 **All I claim is the made up OC, Mina.**


	2. Chapter 2: Spider

The Winter Solider.

Mina knew him instantly. Her once mediocre clasp on the doorframe turned callous. Thin fingers visibly tightened around the chipped wood until ivory skin stretched taunt across clenched tendons.

Facing down an infamous ghost story in the flesh felt akin to having a bucket of ice water dropped on her without warning. A chill shot down her spine, nipping every nerve-ending like a livewire in its descent. Needless to say, it demolished any semblance of a buzz.

Meeting her narrowed gaze with a turbulent glare of his own, Captain America's former best friend glinted down at Mina from beneath a nondescript black baseball cap. Dark chin-length hair shifted ever so slightly as his jaw twitched beneath the loose strands.

"Good day, Domnule Thompson," Mr. Albu said to his new tenant, oblivious to the sudden tension. "Bună seara."

The man in question didn't even bother answering, his attention was entirely focused on Mina. He knew who she was, somehow.

Once the echo of the landlord's footsteps disappeared down the stairs, all minor pretense on Mina's part disintegrated. She reacted faster than he probably expected.

Pushing off the doorframe, she rotated on the ball of her foot and, after a sharp kick, slammed the door shut. Mina sprang to her feet and set off towards the kitchen at a dead run. With adrenaline surging through her veins, all her reflexes and senses engaged. She didn't so much as flinch when the door tore back open. But her apartment rattled from the force.

This time however, he was faster than she expected.

A cold manacle surrounded her waist. It wrenched her backwards with a hard jerk and he entrapped her between pure muscle and pure steel. Mina threw back her elbow, making contact with her assailant's ribs.

Something cracked. He growled.

Relying on her own body strength Mina slammed her heel into his shin. Then, changing tactics, she spun herself around in his arms. Taking advantage of the slightest give she crawled up his torso like a dexterous, little spider going in for the kill.

Metal muscles clinked and whirled in order to compensate for her rapid ascension.

In less than a second she had encircled the bottom half of his ribcage with her legs and freed one of her arms. Reclaiming some range of motion, she seized the opportunity and landed a heavy blow to his cheek; enough to snap even _his_ head to the side. The briefest flicker of his muscles rippling between her thighs was the only warning she sensed before her back unceremoniously met the floor.

 _SLAM!_

All the air was knocked from Mina's lungs as her five-foot-two frame was squashed beneath the Winter Soldier's solid weight. Perhaps if she hadn't had so much wine she may have been a hair faster, but alas, she did, so she wasn't.

A lack of oxygen set her lungs on fire and black dots danced across her vision.

The assassin grabbed her wrists, restraining them above her head. "Dostatochno!"

Mina blinked hard to clear her vision. In her altered state the use of her native language brought her up short.

"Enough," he repeated, softer than before.

Once the room stopped spinning she realized how close they were; she could count his eyelashes. But, most importantly, he wasn't trying to kill her. Well, if he wasn't about to finish her off . . .

"Get the hell off me," Mina said through gritted teeth.

"Who sent you?" He ignored her demand and, if anything, tightened his grip.

Wincing from the way her bones smashed together within his ironclad hold, the last thing she was in the mood for was answering his fucking questions. Though, admittedly, her interest was piqued. His inquiry derailed her earlier assumption, for the moment. Madame Zima's voice belted up from beneath the layers of walls she'd placed between her past and consciousness, " _There is no such thing as coincidence!"_

That piece of advice steeled her.

 _I don't have the upper hand, though, he does,_ she admitted begrudgingly, the thought leaving a sour taste at the back of her throat.

"I could ask you the same question," Mina said. Her tone was nothing but calm and collected, as if she was the one with the power here.

His expression shifted, blankness morphing into detached calculation. "If I release you," he said, each word accentuating his lack of patience, "give me your word that you won't do anything . . . unwise."

"I give you my word." What other choice did she have?

Eventually, with one last pointed look, his weight disappeared.

Mina shifted backwards until she hit the counter, rubbing her wrists.

The Winter Solider stood poised and resolute. "Nina Romanov."

She sighed. Twice in one night did that name catch Mina off guard. It wasn't appreciated. "James Buchanan Barnes," she snipped back, though it lacked any real malice.

He took a single step towards her, his eyes caught in a fierce storm of unmistakable anguish. Although, the raw glimpse of the soldier's inner turmoil vanished as quickly as it appeared.

As unexpected as his appearance may have been, for the first time tonight she was at loss for words. Shame bubbled in her chest and she found herself unable to meet his gaze.

"I didn't come here for you, zhenshchina," he said.

Mina blinked as he started backing away. Distant memories conjured rising sympathy, and it swelled like a tidal wave within her, crashing against the walls protecting her from the details of her childhood. Recognizing the torment inadvertently shared with her, Mina backtracked. "Wait!"

He paused half way to the door.

"Why are you here?" Mina asked him.

A flash of blatant distrust passed over him and he pressed his lips into a fine line.

"If you're not going to kill me," she persisted, and then pointed towards his apartment. "Then stay. I won't tell anyone." Self-preservation demanded she retract that statement straightaway, but she didn't. "In return, I expect the same curtesy. Agreed . . . Bucky?"

If he was surprised, he didn't show it.

Mina took his silence as some reassurance and got off the floor. "And my name is Mina by the way," she informed him, skimming her hands over her sore tailbone.

"I don't know Bucky," he said eventually, voice void of emotion.

"Well, neither do I, so I guess that makes two of us."

A slight semblance of a nod was all she received.

Tentative peace established, Mina took stock of her apartment and ran a hand through her long, wayward curls. With the only evidence of their altercation being three busted floorboards from the body slam, she merely kicked her kitchen mat over it, reassuring herself that it could be dealt with later.

When she looked back up Bucky was gone. Only the soft click as he closed his apartment door suggested that he hadn't disappeared into the night.

* * *

 **Mina Walsh-23**

Romanian: Domnule-Mister

Romanian: Bună seara-Good Evening

Russian: Dostatochno-Enough

Russian: zhenshchina-woman

 **A/N: Reviews welcome! Thank you all so much for the support! Although this chapter is short the rest, from this point on, will be longer. Do you think I should continue? This is also my first attempt at a fight scene, so let me know what you think!**

 **-Emma**

...

 **Mandatory disclaimer: Everything in the Marvel Universe—Marvel** ** _,_** **and its characters belongs to Marvel Comics, etc... Similarities to the original characters or themes from the movies and/or comics are used on here for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made. No infringement intended.**

 **All I claim is the made up OC, Mina.**


	3. Chapter 3: Simple Surveillance

More than two inches deep, a perfect spherical crater mocked Mina from across the apartment. Loading her spoon with cereal and swinging her feet from her stool at the breakfast bar, she darted her eyes from the hole in her wall to the doorknob responsible. She finished her mouthful of food with deliberate slowness and laid down her spoon.

If the damage to her place wasn't enough, the dark bruises around her wrists and poignant back pain most certainly were.

All of her carefully arranged plans were ruined by the edgy assassin now living next door. She lost count how times throughout the night she picked up her cell, her thumb hovering over her sister's number, only to remember her promise and put the phone back down. It was ludicrous.

But to be honest, the damage to her place really should've been the least of her worries.

Mina ran a hand through her hair in defeat. And so the plethora of things on her 'to do' list continued to grow. Less than a week until fall term began and she still had so much paperwork to finish; lesson plans to personalize and rubrics to layout. The possibility of accomplishing anything other than work seemed doubtful.

She gave up on the one-way stare down and took another spoonful of cereal, making a mental note to add _a lot_ of spackle to her shopping list.

After breakfast, Mina jumped in the shower. As she stood under the hot spray, thoughts invariably returned to Bucky. She grew pensive. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Mina pressed her lips together in a slight grimace.

RING, RING, RING!

Mina looked up out of habit, already decided to let the phone go to voicemail. The third call, however, was enough to finally force her out of the tub. Wet and irritable, she swiped her phone off the bathroom counter. Annoyance instantly gave way to restrained apprehension.

Caller ID: Jackson Young, a.k.a. Fury, Nicholas, J.

…

Bucky POV: _Three days later_

This was the third consecutive evening in a row Bucky found himself venturing into the local bookstore. As he swept his way inside, the smell of overpriced coffee and sweet pastries assaulted his senses. It was enough to give him a headache. But then Bucky wasn't here for the ambience.

Bucky stuffed his hands into his pockets and strode up to the staircase, the indelible flare of cinnamon red curls maintained in his left peripheral.

Being adept at blending in with a crowd, he weaved seamlessly through the throngs of people milling about.

His immediate goal; acquire the best vantage point.

If someone was tracking him, Bucky always sensed it. The uncanny ability had saved him from more than one or two sticky situations throughout his internment as the Winter Solider. It enabled him to disappear once HYDRA fell.

Somehow, one baby spider managed to catch him off-guard. He needed to find out how.

As Bucky approached a group of chairs closest to the balcony, which overlooked his objective on the first floor, the sharp cut edges of a book, resting unassumingly on one of the cushions, forced him to switch gears. He paused.

 _The Howling Commandos: A Fight for Freedom_

Bucky decided on a new plan after spotting movement out of the corner of his eye. The girl was on the move.

…

Mina POV: _Three days earlier_

If someone wanted to take their own life in their hands all you had to do was drive in the streets of Bucharest.

After the third car weaved onto a sidewalk to bypass traffic, Mina felt relief when her destination finally diverted her away from the hustling traffic and outlandish drivers of the inner city; she simply wasn't in the mood. With one grip on the steering wheel, she relaxed against the headrest and ran a weary hand down the side of her face.

While Fury's abrupt orders this morning dominated the forefront of her thoughts, the rest were on Bucky.

Mina rolled her shoulders and gripped the wheel a little tighter.

Set apart from the more modern buildings, the bookstore Fury selected was located at the end of a long, narrow street, nestled in a more subdued version of downtown. Although a classic and elegant design, the shadows cast from the nearby causeway made the building appear more like a haunted house than a welcoming venue.

 _It was no wonder Fury choose it_ , she concluded.

Mina found a parking spot in a nearby lot and, after locking her car, swiftly headed towards the entrance, a bitter wind biting her cheeks and nose.

As she swung open the door, her roaming eyes immediately fell on the hooded figure quietly sipping a cup of coffee in the café. The semi-relaxed façade gave him away. Her pace was slow as she approached the table.

Upon reaching him, she slid into the seat opposite, a poker-face set firmly in place.

Fury never looked up. Instead, he simply rotated his mug until the handle was perfectly aligned with the stripes running across the tabletop. "Coffee's not too bad here."

"I wouldn't know." Mina frowned. "I haven't been in Bucharest for more than two days."

He took another sip of coffee. When he placed the cup back on the saucer, the soft _clank_ filled the space between them.

"What's going on, Boss?" she probed.

Fury raised his eyes to meet hers. "Your cover has been compromised."

Mina forced herself to remain calm, but the knot in her stomach remained.

Did he know about Bucky?

Whether Fury was aware of the Winter Soldier's whereabouts or not, Mina needed to approach this with caution. On the inside, her emotions clashed.

Who exactly was she protecting? The truth was, she didn't have an answer. So all things considered, it was better to keep her cards close to the vest until she did and deal with the consequences later.

Shifting forward, Mina dropped her gloves on the table, a picture of the perfect spy: poised and controlled. "Does Natasha know?" She thought back on her conversation with her sister the night before. Never once was the possibility of her cover being blown discussed.

"If she doesn't already, she will soon."

Mina nodded. "How?"

"I may have kept you off S.H.I.E.L.D. records, but the secrets dumped on the net revealed HYDRA had their own file. Buried inside their archives are documented lists of your skills, missions, alias'. It's only a matter of time before the rest of the world decodes those encryptions. You need to be prepared."

She sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead, already feeling a headache coming on.

"Interestingly enough, that's not what worries me." He pulled a small box from his backpack and nudged it towards her. "This has all the information I've decrypted so far."

Mina took the box, weighing it in her hand—most likely a tablet, she decided—before slipping it into her purse.

"Your file contained an unidentified project within the organization, specifically targeting you as a candidate."

"A candidate for what?"

Fury picked up his cup. "That's what I want to figure out," he said softly.

Mina watched him expectedly as he took a long sip, eye contact never wavering. "You want me back in." She paused. "Do I have a choice?"

"There's always a choice. I'd just prefer you have all the pieces."

Silence fell over them as she weighed her options, but she threw Fury a tight smile.

"Do what you have to do. You know how to contact me," he said. His eyes cut to her purse, where she'd put the package, then back to her.

With a parting nod, Fury stood up from the table and grabbed his pack off the back of the chair.

There was nothing more to say on Mina's behalf, at least, not right now.

Over the last ten minutes of their hushed conversation the café had filled up with customers and the streets were buzzing as midday approached. Fury offered her shoulder a slight squeeze before he disappeared into the crowd.

…

As Mina sat on her couch, she held the tablet tightly in her hand, thinking hard. Night had fallen and the mirage of city lights playing on the air gleamed in through the windows. She turned the device in her hand, suddenly wishing Fury hadn't called her.

Mina closed her eyes, willing herself to think clearly.

Back in the old days, Mina wasn't someone to take lightly. She didn't avoid conflict, she charged it head on, followed her instincts. It had served her well.

She took a deep breath and activated the tablet. " _Voice Activation Required_ ," a female voice droned.

"Walsh, Mina, J."

" _Access Denied_."

Mina fell back into the cushions, nibbling her lip. When realization dawned on her, she inhaled sharply through her nose, then exhaled through her mouth and said, "Romanoff, Nina, A."

" _Access Granted_."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, let me know what you think. Yes, I know this chapter was a cliffy and a filler, but more is on the way. Review!**

 **-Emma**

...

 **Mandatory disclaimer: Everything in the Marvel Universe—Marvel** ** _,_** **and its characters belongs to Marvel Comics, etc... Similarities to the original characters or themes from the movies and/or comics are used on here for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made. No infringement intended.**

 **All I claim is the made up OC, Mina.**


	4. Chapter 4: A Waterfront View

There was something shameless in the way water moved. It had an everlasting fluidity, which rippled like a thousand foamy sapphires over sand and stone, swelling and crashing against the rock with overwhelming force. The luscious waves were frightening in their immensity.

No mercy and no regret.

Mina rotated a cup of hot cocoa between her palms, her elbows propped up on the cold metal banister overlooking the causeway. The whole structure itself wasn't massive or anything, but she could still appreciate the towering bridge in all its rusty, degraded glory. Every once and a while a slight spray of mist rolling off the water sent an unexpected chill down her spine.

She snuggled into the thick scarf protecting her neck and shoulders. She waited, and as it turns out, she didn't have to wait long.

Footsteps approached, quick and lethal and deliberate. Then they stopped beside her.

He wanted me to hear him coming, Mina thought, and she smirked.

"It took three days to order that book, I hope you didn't just leave it there," she muttered offhandedly, never taking her eyes off the causeway as she took a sip of her drink. "I'd bet there's a wealth of information in there."

"I'm not interested in a history lesson."

The reply was made of gravel and sharp stones, and it sent a whole different set of chills dancing down her spine. It tickled the skin of her back like a caress, although that was not its purpose.

Mina shrugged it off.

In the repressed recesses of her mind she readily admitted that it had been way too long since the last time she had some _personal_ time to herself. The self-realization at such a critical time made her snort. Hell, this was her personal time, Mina thought, sagely.

Glancing over at the Winter Solider, she caught a look of bewilderment pass over him before it was wiped clean. That familiar detached expression she knew—oh, so well—returned.

Her cup hung limply from her fingers as she played with the plastic indents on the lid, her mind suddenly adrift. Mina dragged her eyes forward.

"Do you remember the war?" she wondered aloud.

Bucky was silent, and for a second, she didn't think he'd answer. Until he did. "I don't know."

"Meaning?"

She saw him then. He moved into her peripheral vision. The same banister she rested her arms over, he clutched beneath leather gloves. As the black material stretched taunt across his knuckles, he cut straight to the point. "How did you find me?"

"I didn't."

"I have no reason to trust you," Bucky supplied roughly.

"True," she said, sighing. "But I gave you my word." She tried to find the right words hidden in the waves. "Besides, it's pointless to lie you, anyway, right? You're not exactly a person to underestimate."

His silence was answer enough.

"So do you?" She tried again. "Remember the war?"

Bucky gave a low huff, annoyed. "Are you always this persistent?"

Mina smiled up at him. "Yes."

Resting more fully against the banister, he flicked his gaze from her eyes to her mouth. Then, rather abruptly, turned to look out at over the rolling water. A lingering hush fell over them.

She more or less got the sense that although he was staring out at the causeway, the waves and dilapidated bridge wasn't what he was really _seeing_. Instead the man was miles away. Or perhaps, decades.

"I'm sorry," she murmured softly, and Bucky shot her a fleeting look.

He tilted his chin down, his profile set in stone.

"I'm sorry for what they did to you." Mina thought about what Natasha had once shared with her, and Mina flinched. She leaned in closer. "You're not the only monster here—"

"Don't," Bucky snapped. The word came out sharp from between clenched teeth. A short warning from a trapped and wounded animal. Mina's heart stuttered in her chest.

The icy blueness of his eyes bore into her softer hazel gaze, dragging her into a storm of frozen emotions. The layers of cold, burning steel-blue swirled like a whirlpool of apprehension behind a thick wall of molten anger. Such rawness caught her off guard.

This moment weighed heavy, very nearly choking Mina in its intensity. "Bucky…" His name fell from her lips like a sigh.

"What do you want from me?"

Saying that Mina didn't want anything from him would've been a lie, and, for some strange reason, she didn't _want_ to lie to him. Even though at some point she knew she wouldn't have a choice, realistically. This left her on uncharted ground. Her chest constricted painfully as she picked her next words with care. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He stepped back, so suddenly, so swiftly, her face slackened.

No wonder you took me down so fast _,_ Mina thought, envisioning the night they'd met. I never stood a chance . . .

She watched him warily, keeping one eye on his legs muscles, waiting for an attack.

"Don't," he murmured again at long last. Then shaking his head, Bucky took another step back, this one larger than before.

Instead of saying anything more, he looked into a middle distance. He was bracing himself for something. Finally, he lowered his guard and looked straight at her.

Mina had initiated this, she knew that, but all of a sudden she wanted it to stop. Because looking into Bucky's eyes, only one phrase came to mind. Old Soul.

He knew too much, had seen too much, even if he didn't necessarily remember any of it right now. One day, Mina knew he would remember, he would remember everything. She couldn't understand the wetness that was threatening to spill out of her eyes.

There was so much more left to say, lines she had prepared. She didn't say any of those things, however. She looked at Bucky, her eyebrows drawn together. "I won't hurt you and I'll keep my distance."

His head nodded, but his eyes were bottomless and frighteningly sad. Within seconds he turned and walked away.

A painful inhale scorched her lungs as she took a breath she didn't she was holding. Closing her eyes, Mina put a hand to her cheek and tried erasing the ridiculous impulse to go after him. She felt suddenly tired and strangely emotional. There was too much inside her: sadness and relief and worry and a new feeling she didn't quite understand. She crossed her arms and looked around the causeway, trying to relax, taking deep, even breaths.

With everything HYDRA had on her, Mina would go to prison for the rest of her life. More than likely, though, she'd end up with a bullet in her head. Or, worse.

There was always worse. But, she decided, she would do it alone.

* * *

 **I know it's been a wait, so sorry! But the next chapter is semi-done and it's a BIG one. I'm so excited to share it with everyone. More action, and, most importantly, the story really gets moving! So, leave a review-it helps with creative motivation;)**

 **-Emma**

* * *

 **Mandatory disclaimer: Everything in the Marvel Universe—Marvel** ** _,_** **and its characters belongs to Marvel Comics, etc... Similarities to the original characters or themes from the movies and/or comics are used on here for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made. No infringement intended.**

 **All I claim is the made up OC, Mina.**


End file.
